~ ‘have you seen the news about timothy mcveigh’s execution?’
   ‘i’m familiar with it; could you be more specific?’
   ‘well, all the hotel rooms in town are booked and people are selling t-shirts and american flags for the execution.’

   ‘it reminds one of what they used to do in the south, after lynching a black man for some reason or other…selling body parts and lining up for photos with the corpse hanging…’
   ‘doesn’t it make you sad that regular people could so easily get excited about someone being executed?’
   ‘no…because they’re the sick fucks who need to be worrying…anyone who wants to watch someone executed or somehow derives pleasure from just being in the town where it happens has more problems in the than mr. mcveigh could be supposed to have. we can’t worry about the issues these people must carry; we can only scorn them from our positions of moral superiority.’

~ few events + constant worry = much demoralization

~ updates will be few and far between in the coming days and months.

~ even though it is hotter than a two dollar pistol in this town, sore throats have ravaged the offices of the angry red planet; fevers and allergies followed to tag team any survivors. the quickness with which the diseases infested the offices can only be attributed to the lack of fortification which has arisen from both ‘vitality’ and ‘combat’ having been removed from our daily regimen. we do not seek pity from our gentle readers; rather, we merely offer this information as a complement to our recent lack of news. with the knowledge of this set of varied conditions, the reader may perhaps be able to deduce our most immediate histories, and he or she may forgive our lack of prolificacy accordingly.
   before this epidemic, however, we enjoyed an exciting weekend forays into the city:

~ our primary issue of locating a somewhat decent comic book store finally has been addressed; though the back issue stock is found to be wanting, and though a large portion of the store is devoted to toys and movie memorabilia, the girl behind the register—after giving us the elevator eyes—informed us that we did not need to check our bags, as did the suits before and after us. hence, “forbidden planet” at union square is our place to go, especially as vegan pizza is offered in a mediocre selection and presentation at ambitious prices just around the – well, a few – corners…

~ secondary issues of employment and habitation are still in need of being addressed. rather than expend any energy on these endeavors, we instead accompanied [k] from 1440dpi.com [w] to the most beautiful twin towers in lower manhattan, where we were free to discuss brilliant and moving issues, such as the regrettable misfortune that no one with the power has seen fit to build three or four more—pairs, of course—world trade centers in the immediate vicinity, before moving on to less crucial, but nonetheless justifiable concerns, such as which directors of the graduate program at sci-arc are most out of their league and which coordinator of the history and theory department is beating the deadest horse.

~ all this talk of ghosts in los angeles reawakened our homesickness, so, after a few minutes of looking away from a public act of fellatio on the metro, we arrived at a movie theater with the intent to assuage our nostalgia for the left coast with an intimate viewing of ‘crocodile dundee in los angeles’. this expedition ended in the dual disappointment of seeing no footage of the west side and the loss of $10 per admission. we were able to note, however, that the loew’s theater on 13th and broadway is no longer worthy of our support, as a 15-foot screen is not exactly what we expect in the second or third greatest city in the year ‘2001’ for—let’s be clear about this—$10 per admission.

~ the amounts of time and effort which sprint is spending to messages on our phones is becoming a little interesting. perhaps they have noticed that we have not responded to their literature since january, and they would like to ask if we are no longer interested in seeing paperwork from them. perhaps that is why they leave two messages a day for us. perhaps we will return the calls?

~ the discrepancy between the promise of the subheading ‘fine beverage’ and actual degree of enjoyment derived from a 28-cent can of ‘richfood birch beer’ is actually staggering.

~ ok, you still need to wait just as long, or short, but at least now you can tell that you are waiting and that nothing has gone awry…scene 4!

~ our recent travels have not kept us from following the amazing adventures of peter parker, and our disgust at the recent weakly turning of events has formed a schism between the great deal of occurrences to talk about and the great reluctance to give credit to any of them. we did not want to see mary jane return in the first place – though we knew it would happen, right when everyone most expected it – so, not only were we depressed to see the inevitable mistake finally unfold, we were also offended at the pitiful manner in which the situation was resolved: she was locked in the basement of a diner by a nobody who appeared for just this purpose – the kidnapping – then exploded, inexplicably, at the end of the story apparently for no other reason that page 22 was approaching. not only are we denied any climax that would have let us forgive the return of mary jane, but, we are given an explanation for her disappearance that is absolutely senseless. she is kidnapped because some guy, who has never been seen before, wants to make peter parker suffer because they share, for no visible reason, the same memories? however, after one issue, he changes his mind and explodes?? no norman osborn? no black cat? not even freaking professor warren? we have seen better stories unfold on diaryland…

~ the newest scene report has been linked, but it seems to lag a little between images… so, if you take a look at it, and you come to a window that is black with a little white square, then you have found a ‘loading’ screen; we just forgot to add the word ‘loading…’. we will try to patch things up and repost it in the morning, but, if you can’t wait, here it is.

~ it appears that the marvel comics section has been taken from the basement of the fao schwartz. this leaves only one reason for strolling around 5th and 59th: the hope of catching a glimpse of philip johnson hobbling from the back of a lincoln.

~ some images added to the folio, under the ‘spring 2001’ section; let us know if you can find it. the newest scene report has been uploaded, but there is no time for linking it, as we need to run down the street and gawk at the filming of the spider-man movie! look for the scene report tomorrow.

~ while we are not having the time of our lives here, we have crossed ‘jim henley’s universe’ on 33rd street from our list of possible ideal comic book retail establishments. they seem unaware that monthly comics are not to be filed with comic strip compendiums and graphic novels.

~ new york also surprises us with the knowledge that we are not the only owners in the country with a copy of paul simon’s ‘rhythm of the saints’.

~ we have put behind us 7000 more miles of road, both ends of which were pleasantly lacking in the anticipated tumultuousness, and we are still far from being settled, but it is now safe to say that the angry red planet has arrived in new york.

~ from time to time, the angry red planet receives criticism from those who find our log to be impersonal and, perhaps, inhuman. is our mission to entertain the masses by converting our internal machinations into a consumable quip, fit only for a patch or, if we are lucky, a freaking t-shirt? this isn’t diaryland; you’ll find nothing resembling the musings of a tortured 16-year old here… the rinds and cores that we throw, daily visions and invasions, are here for you to compile and interpret; nothing has been processed and righteously spilled out. so, sometimes you get to read about linux failures for three weeks; sometimes you get to hear about the man who forced us to examine his collapsing set of teeth at the ward plaza sav-on. however, you can trust us on this: you could not begin to plumb the depths of our frustration in the final hours of life in los angeles…

~ you can also trust on this: we will never see ‘spy kids’. never.

~ would the the clever gentleman who just prank called my home please note that this is angryredplanet.org, not angryredplanet.com [w].